What We Are
by KaterinaPetrova1967
Summary: Charlotte Daae (OC) takes her sister's place with the opera ghost. It may not be the best place in the world, but at least it means that her sister is safe. Charlotte sings for the ghost and slowly learns more about him than anyone has cared to before. How long can their rocky acquaintanceship last before fate pulls them apart? Rated M for future chapters.
1. The Point of No Return

" _Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Lead me, save me from my solitude. Say you want me with you here beside you."_

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the couple. The opera ghost had his arms around my sister. Christine was stroking his face lovingly. To the untrained eye, they would appear to be madly in love with each other. Only one of them had genuine feelings for the other.

" _Anywhere you go, let me go too,"_ Erik bellowed.

I glanced up at Raoul, not really wanting to see the sad mess of a man. To be honest, he was holding himself together better than I was. From where I sat, he appeared fine. His back was straight, but this was an intense opera. Most men in the audience sat with a similar tension. In fact, there was a thick tension blanketing the entire room.

Christine looked up at the ghost.

" _Christine, that's all I ask of. . ."_

Christine pulled the mask from the ghost's face. The audience gasped in unison. The ghost's face was mangled and marred on the right side.

After that, it all happened so fast. The ghost cut one of the supporting ropes to the chandelier. He and Christine fell through the floor. Then the chandelier swung down and towards the floor of the stage. It scraped its way across the flooring. People began running for the exits.

Someone shoved into me and my face hit the floor. I breathed in the smell of the floor. Feet rushed passed me. They began to blur together. My head spun and I couldn't find my bearings.

When my feet finally found the floor, I reached for the nearest seat. My nails dug into the cloth desperately. I pulled myself up. The majority of the audience was gone now. Only the last few stragglers were still shoving their way through the door.

I looked towards the stage and nearly lost my balance. Flames were licking their way down the front of the stage. The heat was emanating towards me. I needed to get out of there, quickly. My eyes jumped to the box where Raoul had been sitting. He was gone.

There were two choices. Leave the Opera Populaire like any sane person would. The other option was to go find Raoul and ultimately Christine. It didn't even seem like a choice. Christine was my older sister and I owed everything to her.

Raoul wasn't too hard to find. He and Madame Giry were standing in the hallway talking. As I caught a glimpse of them, they began walking hurriedly away. By the time I caught up to them, they had entered a secret passageway. I was still having balance problems and my high heels were not helping at all.

"Raoul," I called.

He whipped around. In the dim lighting of the passageway, his face looked almost demonic. The shadows cast an evil light on the face which was usually so sweet and caring. It made me stop for a moment. "Charlotte?" he questioned.

I stepped closer to them. "I've been trying to catch up with you for a while," I stopped to gasp for air. My body was so thrown off. I was worried.

Raoul knew. He pulled me into a tight hug. I appreciated it. The back of my mind kept screaming that there wasn't time. We needed to find Christine. However, I needed this embrace. Too often, I was overlooked by our friends and family and especially men. It was hard being overshadowed by Christine. Especially with what I was going through. No one understood the daily pain that I was fighting. That is why I knew what I had to do. And that is why this hug was so very needed.

I pulled away from Raoul and turned my head to hide a stray tear. We needed to go. I looked to Madame Giry and she knew. "Follow me," she said, quietly.

Raoul and I looked at each other one more time, before we followed the older woman.


	2. Past the Point of No Return

I do apologize for the first chapter being so short and this one being so long. This always happens at the beginning of a new story. It will even out over the next few chapters. I am very excited about this story and will try and update weekly. Currently, I am doing most of my writing at night and have no beta. So, if you find grammatical or other errors, please PM me or leave a review. Also, if you want to beta, please PM me. Leave a review with your thoughts! Thanks for reading!

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Raoul was gone. I had no idea if he was okay. All I knew was that I needed to keep moving. My hands began to shake. Where was I even going? I had been following this stairway down for what felt like a very long time. I could see the bottom now but what lay beyond that?

It turned out to be a lake. An underground tunnel system filled with water. I peered into the water. There didn't appear to be anything moving in there. Then again, the water was too murky to be able to see anything moving around down there.

Before I could think about it too much, I waded in. Slowly but surely, I made my way towards a distant noise. Silently, I prayed that it was my sister.

The water didn't smell as bad as one would think. It was just the thought of what could be in the water that kept my feet moving quickly. I tried to keep my head up and focused on the light in the distance.

The closer I got, the surer I became that I was headed in the right direction. As I drew closer to the light, I began to hear my sister's voice echoing down the passageway.

" _Am I now to be prey to your lust for flesh?"_

That was my poor Christine. Her voice warbled with worry and sadness. I tried to move faster. The water was just past my waist, though. It made it hard to move very quickly.

" _That fate, which condemns me to wallow in blood has also denied me the joys of the flesh. This face- the infection which poisons our love,"_ a man's voice sang.

That had to be the opera ghost. I forced my feet to move faster. The shaking in my hands grew drastically worse. I ignored it and made them into tight fists level with my head.

" _This face, which earned a mother's fear and loathing. A mask, my first unfeeling scrap of clothing."_

I reached an iron gate. It looked old. Would it even open? I peered through it and saw my sister standing in front of a mirror. The ghost stood behind her with a veil in his hands. He put it on Christine's head.

" _Pity comes too late- turn around and face your fate: an eternity of this before your eyes!"_

I dove under the water and found the bottom of the gate. The cross bars ended pretty far up. I could squeeze myself between two of the vertical bars. I needed another breath to do it, though.

I came up for breath, but found myself gasping. I wasn't use to this much moving in one day. Not to mention, the amount of exercise I'd done in the past half hour. My body was starting to give out on me.

" _This haunted face holds no horror for me now. It's in your soul that the true distortion lies."_

I needed to get to her. I took a deep breath. No turning back and no giving up. I reached the bottom of the gate and put my arms through the bars. I pulled myself through. As soon as my head broke the surface, I gasped for breath and grabbed at my throat.

I looked over to where my sister and the ghost stood. Then, I looked back at the gate. I was through! I coughed. Suddenly, I broke into a fit of coughs. I doubled over.

"Charlotte?" Christine asked.

I gathered enough breath to respond, "Christine!"

I forced my feet forward. I drew closer to the steps up to where they were standing.

"What are you doing here? Oh, my dear Charlotte? Are you okay?" Christine begged answers of me.

I ascended the stairs. Christine grabbed me around the shoulders and helped me up.

Christine grabbed my face and forced me to look at her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I managed.

I pulled Christine into a hug. I needed her to hold me. "I love you. I had to come find you," I whispered in Christine's ear.

Christine pulled back from our embrace. "You need to go. Now," She whispered, worriedly.

"She will not be leaving," the ghost said, angrily.

We turned to look at him. This was exactly what I wanted. This was also exactly what Christine didn't want.

"You can't keep Christine prisoner here! Keep me instead!" I cried.

"What?" Christine gasped.

"Who are you?" the ghost asked me.

Suddenly, my name had left my brain. I couldn't think let alone form words.

Christine was crying softly behind me.

"Speak!" the ghost bellowed.

My name! "Charlotte," I finally said.

The ghost looked from me to Christine and back to me. "You're related?"

I nodded jerkily. I was trying my hardest not to shake. My hands were shaking horribly nonetheless. I grabbed on to my dress and balled my fist tightly around the fabric.

The man was so tall and built wide. He towered over my curvy but small frame. His dark demeanor and ominous mask made me shake even more. I felt myself shrink.

"Wait," he started. He looked towards the gate. " _I think my dears, we have a guest!"_

Christine and I looked towards the gate. Raoul stood there with his hands on the gate bars nearest his head.

The ghost smiled and turned. " _Sir, this is indeed an unparalleled delight! I had rather hoped that you would come. And now my wish comes true- you have truly made my night!"_

Raoul put his head against the bars. " _Free her! Do what you like only free her! Have you no pity?"_

" _Your lover makes a passionate plea!"_ the ghost sang, looking at Christine.

Christine looked from the ghost to Raoul. She was sad and tired. Her body slumped slightly. It had been a long, stressful day for her. " _Please, Raoul, it's useless."_

" _I love her! Does that mean nothing? I love her! Show some compassion,"_ Raoul sang.

The ghost's voice boomed angrily, " _The world showed no compassion to me!"_

I looked from the ghost to Raoul and over my shoulder to Christine. I truly felt like the fourth wheel in this strange two-sided love triangle.

" _Christine. Christine. Let me see her,"_ Raoul begged.

The ghost smiled and pushed a lever that was bolted into the floor. " _Be my guest, sir."_

The gate began to rise. Raoul watched as it slowly lifted.

The ghost waded into the water. He sang to Raoul, a smirk in his voice, " _Monsieur, I bid you welcome! Did you think that I would harm her? Why should I make her pay for the sins which are yours?"_

The gate lifted enough for Raoul to step beneath it. The ghost grabbed Raoul by the neck and pushed him back into the gate which was now descending. Christine gasped and buried her face in my shoulder. I held her head against me. I tried to rub her hair. I knew that it was the best way to calm her. However, my hands were still shaking too badly. I was doing more harm jerking her hair than good comforting her.

The ghost had gotten a rope and tied a noose around Raoul's neck. It was rigged through an upper bar of the gate. The ghost could give a good tug and it would jerk poor Raoul's neck up. The ghost sang, " _Order your fine horses now! Raise up your hand to the level of your eyes! Nothing can save you now- except perhaps Christine."_

If ever there was a time that I respected Raoul more, it was now. He loved Christine so dearly. Any sensible man would've ran for the hills long ago. Raoul didn't just stay, he protected Christine. More than that, he fought her battles for her. That is why I knew what I must do.

The ghost looked back at us. Well, he appeared to look at us. Truly, I knew he was focused on Christine. It was almost as if she could sense his eyes on her. She lifted her head from my shoulder. Her hair was so long that it cascaded into mine as she moved. Our hair was nearly the exact same color. Despite our two years of age difference, most of our features were the same. The only major difference was that I was cursed with this broken and curvy body. Christine was blessed with a slender, perfectly working one.

The ghost sang to Christine, " _Start a new life with me. Buy his freedom with your love! Refuse me, and you send your lover to his death! This is the choice! This is the point of no return."_

Christine stepped around me. She began to move towards the water, singing, " _The tears I might have shed for your dark fate grow cold, and turn to tears of hate."_

The ghost gave a yank to Raoul's rope. Christine reached the steps to the water and moved to descend them. I quickly stepped in front of her and into the water.

I addressed the ghost, "Sir, if Christine leaves and you kill the Vicomte, you will both be destroyed. If Christine stays, she will always fight you. Raoul will always fight you. You cannot honestly believe that he will willingly leave her here. I have no life to live. I have no man to fight for me. Christine is my only family, my only connection to the world. I may be an alto, but my voice is strong and crisp like hers. Let me take her place."

" _An interesting offer indeed. However no one can ever be Christine,"_ he sang. He looked back at Christine, " _Past all hope of cries for help: no point in fighting."_

I knew what I had to do. I waded into the water. I tried my best to look confident and self-assured. I only hoped that it halfway worked. The ghost looked at me. It was hard to tell his emotions because of that mask. I wanted to rip it from his face. I could tolerate the mangled flesh. I could not tolerate being left in the dark. I lacked the confidence that that required.

I placed my hand on the ghost's chest. His head shifted slightly to the right, questioning my intentions. I pushed onto my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his. They were chapped and dry. He drew back. "Why?" he whispered.

"You know how you love her. I love her even more, just in a different way. I have heard Madame Giry's tale. The kindness that she bestowed on you is the kindness that my sister has bestowed on me every day of her life. She is an amazing woman and if you know and love her as I do, then you understand that she deserves to live out a normal life. I can do the singing. I know I'm not an alto, but I believe that with proper training, I could sing for you. I learn quickly. Please. Let her go. Take me."

He thought for a moment. He looked first away, towards his piano. Then his gaze shifted to Christine. She still stood where I left her. Tears were running down her face. Finally, his gaze shifted down towards my face. His muscles relaxed. The tension in his jaw disappeared. "Christine?" he asked.

One down. One to go.

"No! I will not let this happen!" Christine cried.

"She's just a child!" Raoul choked.

"Please," I began, "I am no child. The things I have seen aged me long ago. You both desire this as much as you hate to admit it to each other. I am your only way out. I have no life worth living and you both know that. Go. Live your lives together."

Christine waded out to me. "I love you so much," she said as she pulled me into an embrace. Christine did love me. Had I been normal, she would've stayed there for months fighting with me. She was the perfect overprotective older sister. But I wasn't normal. That was the advantage that we had. I was terminal. But the ghost didn't know that. Had he, he never would've considered letting Christine leave with the Vicomte. Christine knew that I wouldn't live forever. It was the only reason she was willing to trade me places.

It's weird how they tell you that God works in mysterious ways. When you're diagnosed with a terminal illness, they say these things to cheer you up. I had worked it into my head that somehow my illness would benefit my sister and I. This was it. This was why I was born broken. To save my sister. For the first time, I had an advantage in life that she did not. She was not overshadowing me.

Christine looked at the ghost, but she could not form words. The look must've held enough meaning, though. The ghost released the rope holding Raoul. Christine kissed my forehead and then rushed to Raoul's side.

The ghost grabbed me by the wrist and tugged me back to the stairs. He tugged me up the stairs and to the piano. There he let me go. He sat down at the bench. I heard the gate moving and looked back. The gate was closing and I could see Christine and Raoul wading through the water.

The ghost shoved a piece of sheet music into my hands. "Sing," he demanded before setting his fingers on the keys and beginning to play.


	3. Think of Me

Here is chapter three! I'm having a lot of fun with this story! However, this is your first warning that this is not a love story. It is a hurt/comfort story. Charlotte and the ghost are two lost souls that will find comfort within each other. There may be a form of respectful love, but it will not be the kind of love that romances are written about. You've been warned. Sorry about the long time between updates. College is kicking my ass.

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The ghost sat at his piano and began to play. I looked at the sheet music in my hands. This song was definitely composed for a soprano. There was no way I was even going to be able to come close to singing it. I had to try, though. This was my first chance to prove to the ghost that I could be useful to him. I needed to keep him happy. He was dangerous and I did not wish to see that side of him.

The introduction to the song looked long on the sheet music. However, I quickly became enamored with the way the ghost's fingers danced across the keys. Those graceful fingers floated just above the keys. The ghost's hands moved along the piano quickly yet so smoothly. It was mesmerizing. The way he struck each key with such purpose.

I looked up at his face. His eyes were closed. He didn't need to look at the keys, let alone his sheet music. This was obviously a song that he had played many times.

My eyes averted back down to my sheet music. It was hard to focus. The piano's sweet melody floated around me. I felt warm in its embrace.

Then, the music stopped. "You missed your entrance," the ghost stated.

I glanced at him, nervously. He did not look happy. His face was dark.

"I…I'm so sorry," I stammered.

"Again. I'll start two lines before your entrance," he stated, his agitation obvious.

This time, I forced myself to concentrate. I watched the notes on the sheet as they came to life on the piano. As he neared the end of the line before my entrance, I took a deep breath. This song was meant for a soprano. Maybe I could do it in a falsetto.

" _Who knows when love begin?. Who knows what makes it start? One day it's simply there, alive inside your heart."_

The piano stopped again. My shoulders slumped in fear.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Singing," I whispered, my eyes still on the sheet music.

"That was not singing!" he yelled. "I don't even know what that was, but it was horrendous."

"I'm sorry," I whispered. I could feel his eyes on me. "I thought I could try it in a falsetto, but now I know I can't."

"Have you ever had a singing lesson?"

I finally raised my eyes to meet his. "No," I admitted.

"I've never even seen you on the stage before. What did you do here?" he asked.

I swallowed. "My sister was always the singer. I kept our rooms clean and worked in the kitchen to earn a little extra money for us. It wasn't much, but it would cover new clothes for us every once in a while. Dancing in the ballet earned her more money, but I…" I was never allowed to dance. I couldn't tell him that. It was too early to tell him the truth. He would kill me. "I was always too clumsy to be in the ballet."

He raised his hand. "Please. I don't need your whole life story. Try the song again. This time, do it in an alto key instead. Do you know how to change the keys while singing or do you need me to write in new ones on the sheet?"

"I think I can do it. Christine tried to teach me some things. She had an amazing teacher and she would come back from her lessons so excited. She would want to show me…"

"Stop! It's you and me. We will not speak of Christine. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," I said quietly, looking away.

"Yes, sir," he half growled.

I glanced at him, wide-eyed. He looked angry. "Yes, sir," I whispered.

"I'll start at the same place, again."

And he did. It was hard to relax into the music this time. I could feel tension coursing through my veins. When it came to my part, I started switching the notes in my head. I took a deep breath and began again, " _Who knows when love begins? Who knows what makes it start? One day it's simply there, alive inside your heart. It slips into your thoughts. It infiltrates your soul. It takes you by surprise then seizes full control."_

The ghost stopped again. He looked at me, but his face didn't seem as harsh this time. "You have good posture. I cannot deny that. However, your voice is weak. It had better be from tiredness. If you are not up to my standards tomorrow, we will have a serious problem. It has been a long day for one as frail as you. You may go to bed now. Tomorrow, we will get your voice up to its full strength. I will expect you to be up to par at that point."

I couldn't tear my eyes away from him. Somewhere in that iceberg of a body was a little bit of warmth. There had to be. Otherwise, how could he love Christine with the passion that he did. He put his hand out. I handed him the sheet music.

"Head to your right. You will see your bed to the left."

He went back to playing the piano. This was a song that I hadn't heard before. It was sad and slow. The notes made me want to lay in fetal position and have a good cry. I never knew that a piano could make me feel that way. I looked at the ghost, but he was lost in the song. His eyes were far off and glassy.

I turned and headed the way he had told me to go. The bed was hard to miss. It was enormous and the headboard was a large bird. It looked as if he was protecting the bed and any occupants it might have. The sheets and blankets were all a bold shade of red. I hated it. I'd always been one to choose the simplest of things. Money had always been tight and anything that looked expensive made me queasy.

I crawled into the bed, but remained above the covers. I could still here the piano. Christine's voice had always affected me. She could make me feel any range of emotions. It was magical. When I was especially sick, she would sing me to sleep. When I was excited, she would sing me a congratulatory song. Christine fixed everything with a song. The best part was that she could make up a song off the top of her head. They would be wonderful. If you closed your eyes, you would feel yourself transported to this void where only music made sense.

Somehow, the ghost's piano was doing the same thing to me. Not even the best of the opera populaire's shows had been able to do this to me. I pulled my knees to my chest. My eyes closed tight.

Suddenly, I was in that other world. Each note exploded a ball of colorful light. They swirled and mixed in gorgeous designs. It was breathtaking. I was so wrapped up in it. All thoughts of Christine and the ghost faded. It was just me in this beautiful musical light world.

The lights moved out and away from me. The darkness slowly lightened into a gray and then morphed into a pale pink. Christine's face appeared before me. "Do you remember our father?" she asked me.

"No, do you?" I whispered in wonder.

"Only just a little. I can only remember our last few months together."

This was a conversation we had had many times as children. It didn't matter how many times she told me the following story. I wanted to hear it again. "What is your favorite memory of him?" I asked her.

Christine smiled. "On his last night, he called me to his bedside. He told me that when he made it to heaven, he would send me an angel of music."

"Did he? Do you have an angel of music?"

Christine's smile widened. "I think I do," she would say.

I awoke, smiling. I could still feel Christine's arms around me, hugging me. I pulled the blankets around me. Christine was not there. It had only been a dream. I'd never felt so alone.


End file.
